Sunday, March 29, 2015

John accompanied Nick at the door, and he too was caught off
guard at the three mirrored individuals. He slammed the door shut while pushing
Nick out of the door way at the same time. If it only served as a temporary obstacle
to anyone still inside the cabin, that would have been more than enough for
John.

“My jacket, it’s still inside,” Nick remarked.

“Fuck your jacket old man, don’t you see these people?”

“Why yes, of course I do, but it is frigid out here.”

The three guests looked on at the two men bicker back and
forth, mumbling commentary back and forth to each other. Finally, the blonde woman
with the angel wings stepped forward to address both of them.

“Excuse us! The sun is beginning to set and we simply do not
have the time to entertain whatever this is right now.” Both John and Nick
ceased arguing and were immediately taken by her brash confidence. It was easy
to see why she was the leader of this band of misfits.

“Merlin! Step forward and present the map!” The man with the
tail stepped forward, folded map in hand. He knelt down on one knee in the
snow, extending his hand towards John.

“So your version of me is named Merlin? What an awful name.
I feel for you,” he said, snatching the map out of his grasp. As he unfolded
it, Nick stood closer to him in order to get a better view. The cabin door
eased open, and Jennifer joined both men outside. As to be expected, the first
thing that caught her eye was her winged counterpart. She could care less about
the map and immediately graced her presence.

“Your wings… May I see them?” It would be safe to assume
that this recent jolt of confidence had a great deal to do with the whiskey
that she had downed just moments ago.

The obviously powerful angel woman looked down at Jennifer,
both figuratively and literally, before responding to her request. She actually
looked like a wiser, more confident, slightly older version of Jennifer, and
this resemblance caught John from the corner of his eye. He continued to
discuss the map with Nick while keeping a portion of his attention on the two
angels in front of him. As much as he wanted to bombard the trio with
questions, he felt the smart thing to do was to let this unfold naturally.

“You may look at mine if I am able to inspect yours first.”

Jennifer looked at her and agreed before kneeling down with
her back facing her, spreading her wings slowly. Merlin, the bald headed fellow
with a tail slithered around her in excitement, his tail pit-patting against
the snow under his feet.

Nick stopped reading the map that this mysterious trio had
brought along with them to spend his full attention on the odd situation at
hand.

“Marcus! Retain this savage,” shouted the winged woman who
could most accurately described as a queen. Their cyclops stomped forward,
sending dusts of snow a foot into the air with each step. He grabbed Merlin
with one hand, snatching him by his neck and tossing him backwards with ease.
Merlin rolled through the snow until a tree impeded any further progress.

John looked on and said, “badass. Why can’t ours be named
Marcus?”

Nick chuckled and put his hand into the pockets of his
jeans, causing John to remove the coat off of his back to pass to Nick. “Advantage
of being cold blooded,” he said to the old man, trying to mask any hint of empathy
he may have shown.

As Jennifer spread her wings to their full extent, the
assumed queen ran her fingertips around the designs on her wings and
inexplicably backed up from Jennifer. She hollered out for her cyclops, Marcus.

“Marcus! You and Merlin, go and retrieve me some fire wood. Don’t take too
long, I don’t trust these folks.”

Marcus nodded in agreement and placed Merlin on his right
shoulder, stepping into the green forest a mile or so ahead of them.

“Fire wood? We have a bon fire?” John asked her, folding the
map back up and placing it in his back pocket.

“Something like that,” retorted the queen, “your angel here…
let’s just say that she’s not an authentic item.”

“She’s not an item at all, you psychotic bitch.”

“Ah, so you must be John, which renders him useless,” she
said as she seemingly transported to behind Nick, snapping his neck almost as
quickly as his body hit the snow. “They warned me about you, child.”

“Oh yeah? And who would that be?”

“Tell me John, did they tell you that you were special? That
this was your destiny? The only thing that you’re destined to do out here… is
die.”

John had a witty reply on the tip of his tongue, but it
remained there as screams of pain ruled the air. Jennifer had sprung into
action and tackled the queen to the ground, wrestling her for a moment before
pinning her, face down in the snow. Jennifer had rage in her eyes, and that was
all that John needed to see to give him a reason to stay out of it.

The ground began to tremble as Marcus came rushing back as
fast as he could, but without Merlin. Jennifer used all of her strength to
extend this presumed queen’s wings. The rumbling fell silent as Marcus stopped
dead in his tracks, looking on in horror as Jennifer ripped off the queens wings,
tossing them onto the front porch of the cabin.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Repeatedly hitting the snooze button on her alarm was the
culprit behind her racing out the door in order to not be late for work. She
hated to feel rushed and often wished that life could just slow down to her
desired speed just once. She hissed and groaned as she made her way out of the
door, shutting it behind her, only to have her new scarf get trapped in
between. The minor inconvenience only made her seethe more; because she knew
that something was already off about today. She was beginning to feel like that
it might be a wash before it even really began, and that prospect was
terrifying to say the least.

She wished that she had the time to entertain every possible
scenario that could make the coming hours any worse, but she knew that she
didn’t. Opening the door to release her grey scarf, she quickly slammed it shut
again. After locking the door, she approached her vehicle, and briefly caught
her reflection in the driver’s side window. It was odd to her that her
reflection restored such order that her morning had lacked up until this point.
Seeing herself make it all work on her own was a comforting feeling, one that
she had always wanted to pride herself on. It was such an odd place to be for
her, at this time in her life, to make all of this progress without even
noticing it. The fact that she was so close to being where she had always
wanted to be was both comforting and unsettling.

Her color was navy blue.

Her blonde hair brought out the most in her brown eyes,
which kind of confused her. Regardless, she didn’t have the time for this, and
she aggressively put the key into the ignition and turned it. The golden Acura
rattled and kicked around before eventually life rumbled from the engine,
allowing her to finally begin her journey. As she pulled out of the driveway
and made her way down the streets that had become her closest friend, she had
noticed a trio of bunnies hopping around in the field to the left of her.
Common sense screamed to keep going, but curiosity whispered to pull over.

She weighed both options briefly and slammed on the brakes,
the screech of her tires echoing throughout the forest green landscape that
surrounded her. Looking in the rear view mirror, she was happy to see that the
disturbance hadn’t scared off her furry friends. Her phone shook and rang out
from her center counsel, totally killing any excitement that she had built up.
She didn’t even have to answer the call to know who it was and what it was
regarding. She was late for work, but
she didn’t care. She held her phone in her hand, contemplating whether or not
to return the call.

Deciding against it, she placed the phone back in her hoodie’s
right side pocket and stepped out from her vehicle. She gently closed the door
as to not disturb the bunnies, but her attempt was ruled fruitless when they
ran away anyways. A deep sigh exited her as she decided that she’d come too far
to not meet them, so she trekked onwards. She was the furthest thing from a
seasoned bunny tracker, but she had a general idea where they ran off to.
There, in the small bushels that accompanied the mountainous trees was where
she had suspected them to be. So she trudged forward, her feet patting up and down
on top of the now dry land below her. Spring had done its job, but it didn’t stop
her color from being a deep shade of burgundy.

It almost infuriated her that she was moving towards this
bushel with such intensity, but she felt that even seeing them was trying to
tell her something. As she approached it
with her final step and separated the branches from the seam, it revealed a
group of seven bunny babies hidden on the ground. Her intensity dissipated and
she began to relax for at the sight of them sleeping so peacefully. Her color
was hot pink, until her phone had rang again. She grimaced at the site of it,
and chucked it twenty feet ahead of her.

She bent down to pick up one of the children, but she heard
a scream out in the distance, far and beyond where she presently planted her
feet. As much as she loved animals, she cared about people more, and she most
definitely made that known by gently dropping the baby bunny back into the
bundle that she had initially retrieved it from. Walking towards the deep male voice shouting
for help, she began to wonder if she had been merely hearing things.

Her color was pastel yellow.

The cries increased in both sound and length as she got
closer, confirming her original suspicions. She ran towards his screams, and
noticed her cell phone laying mere feet away from her. She didn’t even
entertain the thought of racing to get it, believing full well that this man
needed her assistance more than she had needed her cell phone.

Her assumption proved to be the correct one, as she maneuvered
her way through the scores of trees that surrounded his bloodied body. She
rushed up to him, dropping to both knees to inspect his lacerations and where
they may have come from. Her guess was as good as yours as far as the origins
were concerned. The cuts spread from his chest to his pelvis, brandishing red,
gushy openings. She was careful not to touch any of them, but did communicate
with him.

She was as young as the moment was, and had never felt anything
quite like this. To be in total control of the fate of another human being was
something that would have overwhelmed her before, but now she felt so very
capable.

“I’m dying over here,” he said in response, each word spaced
behind forced breaths.

“Calm down. Why are you even out here? Nobody ever walks
these trails, ever,” she shot back.

“Are you… are you seriously, AHHHH, FUCK!” He reacted in
utter pain as she began to help him lean against the tree that stood directly
behind him.

“Sir, I’m going to get you some help,” she said, as she
attempted to stagger away, before collecting her balance.

Her color was some fucked up, dainty shade of orange.

She scrambled to retrace her footsteps, and it proved to be
the only time that she had ever really missed the snow. Where the hell were the
baby bunnies again? She knew that her phone was somewhere near them, and was
determined to find it. The trees all seemed to gang up on her on similar regalia,
and intimidated her to the point that her color was now puke green.

In the distance, she could see small specks of white hopping
across the similarly colored grass. She was a long way from her paper flowers,
and the immense forest served as a grave reminder. Having no idea where her car
was parked from this point in the woods, her color transitioned to the brightest
shade of orange.

She decided it was best to chase the bunnies, for whatever
reason. No logical explanation ran through her skull as she did the same
through the woods. The trees were just growing their leaves back again, just as
she had grown back her self-worth a couple years before. The fact that nothing
was crunching below her steps was a welcome one seemed to be too good to be
true, like most things in life. She felt that way about most things, but could
hardly help herself.

Her color changed to a sunset orange as she struggled to
find the bunnies that plagued her so. They were nowhere to be seen, and she
scrambled around nature’s playground until she eventually took residence under
the shade of an oak tree. Enjoying the shade that it provided her, she looked
over to the right side of her vision and
saw the bunnies frolicking through the recently grown weeds, and felt a sense
of obligation.

She sprinted into action, chasing them, as her color became
sky blue.

As she chased them down further and further down their path,
they led her to her vehicle that read the name Maxwell written on the passenger side. She slammed
the door shut and continued on her journey, demanding more answers than
questions.

John looked over at Jennifer. John’s hands were still up in
the air. “You’ve got some explaining to do when and if we get out of this
alive,” he whispered loud enough for Jennifer to hear.

Cyrus was at the edge of the woods. He let out a roar. The
old British man the black woman had called Nick quickly moved his rifle so that
it was pointed at the Cyclops’ chest. He pulled the trigger. John closed his
eyes and winced, expecting another loud shot, but instead only heard a click.
John opened his eyes and looked over at Jennifer. She was smiling.

“Bloody hell!” Nick yelled as he checked his rifle.
“Kimberly! Did you remember to load this thing?”

“Yeah, I loaded it, Nick,” the black woman said. John
noticed that her accent wasn’t British.

John dropped his hands. The Cyclops walked up to Nick and
easily ripped the rifle out of the old man’s hands. He pushed the old timer
onto his backside in the snow.

“Hey! Just who the hell do you think you are?” Kimberly
shouted in what sounded like a New York accent as she marched out into the snow
and pushed Cyrus roughly backward with all her might. She then helped Nick up
and brushed him off, gently rubbing the back of his head with her hand and
kissing him on the cheek. “Are you okay, baby?”

“I think we can explain everything if you’d invite us into
your cabin,” Jennifer said as she slowly walked to where Cyrus stood.

“Are you armed?” Nick asked the three.

The trio didn’t say anything.

“Cyrus!” John said as if he was the seven-foot Cyclops’
father and he’d just caught his one-eyed son in a lie.

The Cyclops groaned disappointedly as he pulled the pistol
from the inside of his black jumpsuit and held both the pistol and the British
man’s emptied rifle, with the barrels pointed downward, toward Kimberly. The
young woman took the weapons from the Cyclops and walked into the cabin.

“Well,” Nick said sighing. “Come along then.”

The three looked at each other and shrugged. They followed
the resurrected old man and his young girlfriend into the cabin.

Inside the cabin was surprisingly warm. There was a wood
stove in the middle of the room, but it wasn’t lit. John looked around to see
electric heaters lined up against the walls. There was a picnic table with
benches in the middle of the cabin with a map laid out on it. In the back John
could see a small kitchen area on one side and a queen sized bed on the other.

“I think we’d all like to hear an answer to that question,” John
said, turning to Jennifer with his arms crossed. “Care to enlighten us, Tinker
Bell?”

“At the facility I was trained to focus my gift of time
shifting,” Jennifer said. “This was before I even knew about my wings.”

“Jennifer is able to roll time backward for one or two
individuals in close proximity for a short period,” Cyrus explained. “Those who
have had Jennifer’s gift of temporal shifting focused on them will have no
recollection of what transpired just before she decided to use her power in
this way.”

“So, those were
gun shots I heard,” Kimberly said.

“Yes,” Jennifer confirmed.

“I only ever have one bullet in this rifle,” Nick said as he
reloaded the weapon with a bullet from a box on the picnic table. “Did one of
those two shots she heard come from this rifle?”

“So, you’re saying, I fired a shot, you fired a shot; your shot
hit me in the chest. I was…dead?”

“Yes,” Jennifer said.

“But you there, angel, reversed time, bringing me back to
life?” Nick asked.

“That’s what we’re saying,” Jennifer said.

“Huh,” Nick said. “Okay, well, if I fired a bullet at you
and it missed before your bullet hit me, then I’ll assume my bullet is lost
somewhere in the woods and gone forever. Would you agree?”

“Yes,” Jennifer said.

"But your bullet hit me in the chest, right?” Nick said.

“Yes,” Cyrus said.

“But you reversed time and brought me back to life, right?”
Nick asked, pointing at Jennifer.

“Yes,” she said.

“Well, in that case, I have just one question for you: where’s
the bullet that supposedly entered my body?”

Cyrus walked over to the old man and picked him up with both
hands under Nick’s arms.

“Hey! Put him down!” Kimberly yelled. “What are you doing?”

Cyrus shook Nick up and down forcefully, as if he was trying
to force ketchup from a stubborn bottle, until a small fired bullet fell out of
the left pant leg of the British man’s red jumpsuit and rolled across the cabin
floor, stopping at John’s boot. John picked up the bullet and examined it.

“Well
I’ll be damned,” he said.

The Cyclops gently put Nick back down on his feet. Nick took
the bullet from John and held it up to his eye. “My God,” he said. “I need to
sit down. Kimberly, please make us some tea.” The old man felt at his jumpsuit
and found no hole. He unzipped it and ran a hand over his gray haired chest. “Not
a mark,” he muttered.

Kimberly walked to the back of the cabin and filled a kettle
from a tap. She turned on an electric stove and placed the kettle on a burner.
She opened a cabinet and took out five mugs.

“Now, you’re going to tell us who you’re afraid of finding
you out here,” John said.

The sun was out far past its bedtime, and Kimberly remarked
about such as she pulled out a glass bottle of whiskey for her company. As she
clutched the back edges of the chair, she slid it out from under the table to
create space for her to sit in between Nick and John.

“No shot glasses?” John questioned, but before he could get
to the snark that would embody his next sentence, she twisted the cap off and
took a swig straight from the bottle and passed it to Nick on her right.

The old man stared down the bottle and let out a grumbling sigh
before putting it to his lips, wiping the remnants from his white mustache as
he placed it back on the table. Cyrus was next in the rotation and was handed
the bottle, which prompted Nick to ask a question that bubbled to the surface.

“Can you even drink, dude?”

Cyrus stared back,
holding the bottle that looked more like a 12 oz bottle of Sprite in his grasp.

“Never tried before, but I’m about to,” he said as he tipped
the bottle back and sucked it down to the last drop. John put his head in his
hands for a moment, and when he looked back up at Cyrus, he saw him wearing a
smile from ear to ear. “More,” Cyrus demanded. It was clear that he had taken a
liking to the spirit that was shared amongst them.

Afraid to question the demand of a gigantic cyclops,
Kimberly shot to her feet and pulled another full bottle out of the cabinet. “You
can have more, but you have to wait your turn,” she said, placing the bottle
next to John.

“I’m not so sure that us getting plastered is going to help
any of us, but what the hell?”

Jennifer looked on briefly before returning back to tracing
the designs on her wings with her fingertips. John took a swig and passed it to
Jennifer. She stared at the bottle and then back at John, almost to say that
she wasn’t participating in this party.

“Aw come on. You’re out here in the middle of nowhere, the
sun has been out two hours later than it should be, you’ve got fucking wings,
you—“

Before he could finish his tirade, she reached for the
whiskey and took a larger shot than everybody but Cyrus. Twisting the bottle
back on, she pushed it back over to Kimberly.

“Ok, now that the introductory drinks are out of the way,
can we get down to business?” John was salivating for answers just as much as
he was for his next taste of alcohol. Kimberly and Nick both nodded back in
agreement. Cyrus stumbled over and began to hug John from behind, causing John
to wrestle him away. Cyrus stood against the back wall, still smiling and
giggling like they’d never knew he could.

“It’s weird to see him so happy. He’s usually a living,
breathing ball of… I don’t even know. Anyways, look guys, we’re out here and
all we’ve been given is this map,” he said, as he pulled it from his pocket and
handed it to Nick. “I’m guessing the X on this map is where we are right now,
in the cabin?”

Nick nodded in approval before speaking, “yes, yes, my boy.
You are exactly where you need to be.” Kimberly took her next swig and passed
it to Nick. Nick let the bottle rest openly as he continued on.
“What’s your name again, chap? John is it?” John replied yes. “John, you’ve
been given an incredible gift and it would be a travesty if you were to waste
it. All of you, in fact.”

John interjected, “you’re not telling us anything they haven’t
already told us at the facility. What is it with you people? Always talking in
riddles,”

Kimberly rose up from her chair and looked him in the eye, “what
do you mean you people?!

John slunk down in his chair before Nick started belly
laughing. “Every fucking time,” Nick remarked while holding back tears.
Kimberly laughed out oud and sat back down in her dinner chair.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “you set yourself up for that one.”

Once Nick’s laugh attack had passed, he took a shot and
passed the bottle to Cyrus. His eyes lit up as he wobbled over to Nick to get
his next taste.

“So why are you guys here? There’s nothing out here but you
guys,” John said.

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” Cyrus said as he took a
shot, and then another before passing it to John once again. The giant was feeling
the effects of the elixir, struggling to keep his balance. Eventually he leaned
against the wooden panel wall behind him to stabilize himself. “There’s a whole
bunch out here, you guys just can’t see it. None of this is real. You aren’t
real,” he mumbled and pointed to Nick.

“Oh my dear boy, I’m as real as the sun that sets in the
West.”

John took the bottle and groaned before taking his turn
kissing the whiskey.

“See what I mean? Everything is a fucking puzzle,” he said
to Nick, which got a decent laugh from everybody in the room. “Really though,
what are you guys out here for?”

Kimberly looked at Nick as if to ask who should be the one
to let the cat out of the bag. Nick shrugged his shoulders and Kimberly pulled
her chair up to the table even closer.

“We’ve been out here for seven years, two months and
twenty-six days waiting for you three. We were recruited by the facility over
ten years ago. Me and Nick were recruited separately, but they partnered us up
and told us to wait for the three that would save all of humanity.”

Jennifer stopped playing with her wings and placed her hands
on the table, more intrigued with each word.

“You three… you three have been tasked with an impossible
mission and quite frankly I’d hate to be you when all of this comes to a head.
I’ll get you what you came for and give you another map.”

Kimberly rose to her feet and ventured off into a back room.
Jennifer took her shot as she left the room. Nick leaned over the table and
extended his hand towards John.

“My boy, you have been chosen. I know this is getting
repetitive but never forgot those words. You have been chosen. This is your
destiny.”

Just as Kimberly stepped back into the room, Cyrus slinked
down to the wooden floor and began to mumble incoherently. Nick smiled and
remarked, “been there before, let him sleep it off.”

Kimberly shook her head in disgust as she placed a second
map on the table.

“None of this is real. It’s all a game. We’re all pawns…”
Cyrus continued to talk in his sleep, but nobody really paid attention to what
he was saying besides Jennifer. She walked over to him and rubbed his chest
until he fell asleep.

“This is where you’re going,” Kimberly said, “this is where
it all leads to.” John was about to grab the map and put it in his pocket when
they heard a knock at the door. Nick reached for his gun and sneakily
approached the door. Cyrus’ loud snoring wasn’t aiding in their attempts to be
quiet. Nick creaked the door open and his jaw was agape when he saw who was
outside of it.

In the blistering cold stood three people, and one of them
held a map in his hand. Nick couldn’t
believe his eyes when he realized he was staring back at a man with a tail, a
cyclops, and a blonde woman with angel wings.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

The trio looked on as the leaking corpse of the elderly man
began to sink into the white abyss below them.
It was almost like that the earth that rested so deeply below had reclaimed
his entire being. The look in Cyrus’ eye was one of confusion, and that struck
John as a little bit more than odd.

“You’ve never seen that before?” John asked the Cyclops
before turning his attention to Jennifer for a brief moment. Cyrus shook his head
no and walked over to the spot where the man lay dead. The bright red blood
stain was the only thing that served as a reminder of the murder, and even that
was being buried by the heavy snowfall. Visibility was beginning to become more of a
factor than John would have liked, and Jennifer approached with him a potential
plan.

“I know I’m still getting used to these wings, but I think I
can keep us warm for the night whenever we decide to set up camp.”

John looked back at her bewildered.

“We’re not setting up camp anywhere. We’re going to do this
and be done with it,” he said back to her. She picked up on the urgency he had
displayed in his voice, and knew that he truly believed that whatever lay ahead
of them could and would be faced head on. “I don’t know if this is my destiny,”
he stopped himself and corrected his words after seeing just how cold his two
counterparts were, “our destiny, but we’re going to do this.”

He wasn’t even sure what he meant by this, but he knew that he meant it. Cyrus ventured over and lifted
John up on his shoulder, carrying him like a sack of potatoes. John wasn’t too
fond of this approach and cussed and attempted to fight his way off before
realizing that resistance truly was futile. Cyrus jokingly said those three
words to him, “resistance is futile,” as he tossed him off his right shoulder
just as easily as he’d picked him up. John began to wipe the snow from his
jacket and pants as he rose to his feet, charging Cyrus.

Cyrus dodged his advances, showing off swift moves that
could be attributed to a matador.

“You haven’t learned yet, your tail is your best friend. You
could have easily broken my hold on you if you’d have just used the damn thing.”

Jennifer finally caught up to the two of them and tried to
intervene before things escalated any further.

“You guys need to get along! You don’t have to be friends
but we need to work together. They told us the importance of that at the
faciiity!”

“Fuck the facility,” John retorted. “They said a lot of
things at the facility, it doesn’t mean they’re true.”

Jennifer looked on, carefully crafting her next words very
carefully.

“John, listen to me. The things we seen, the things we all
went through… there’s something to what they’re saying to us. Why is it so hard
for you to believe?”

“I think the better question is what makes it so easy for
you to believe?”

Jennifer clenched her first and hung them at her sides,
stomping her feet into the snow. Her anger gave way to a side of her that he,
or even she for that matter, had never seen. Her wings spread to their full
extent and her eyes turned a dark shade of red. They resembled the fires of
hell, or maybe a glass of red wine straight from Italy. He would prefer the
wine analogy than imagining the fires of hell.

Cyrus stood back and seemed as if he knew what was going to
happen next. The ground shook and they could hear the rumbling of trees in the
distance, and a familiar voice rang out ahead of them. It was the British man
who had recently been shot and killed by Cyrus mere moments ago. He was wearing
the very same red jumpsuit outside the very same shack.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” said Cyrus, which
caused Jennifer and John both to look at him with a sly smirk on their faces.

John took the lead and again advanced towards the man with
his hands in the air, letting it be known that he meant no harm whatsoever.

“Stop right there, son,” said the British man.

“I’m from the facility. I was given a map to get here.” John
dropped one of his hands and started to fish in his pocket for the map.

“Hands up, lad!” the old man shouted as he raised and cocked
the rifle. It was now pointed at John’s chest.

John could hear Cyrus approaching in the distance. He held
his arms back to motion to Cyrus to prevent reliving the same outcome all over
again.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

The three unique individuals had finally been freed from a
mysterious facility.

John, the assumed leader of the trio, would be hard pressed
to explain how he had first arrived at the same compound he now found himself
outside of just days later. He would have had an even more difficult time relaying
the story of how he, by some strange and magical genetic awakening within him,
sprouted a three-foot-long, completely self-manipulative tail from just above
the crack of his ass.

Jennifer, a beautiful young blonde woman, had had a similar
genetic mutation awaken during her time inside the facility. A stunning pair of
white feathered wings now hung from her back. These appendages, however, proved
to be more than just an aesthetically pleasing visual novelty. Jennifer’s wings
had the added feature of being able to regenerate if exposed to destructive
elements.

The third, and perhaps the most mysterious, of the three was
a Cyclops named Cyrus. Standing at over seven-feet-tall Cyrus’ interactions
with John had all been acts of violent intimidation. He appeared initially as a
prisoner within the facility, but soon came to be viewed, at least by John, as a
muscular goon used purely for the protection of the facility’s caretakers. This
put an instant bad taste in John’s mouth. Could Cyrus be trusted to assist his
average-sized comrades if the occasion arose?

John was aware that Jennifer knew more than he did about the
goings on within the compound.

However, at this point in their relationship,
what was more important to him was that he could count on Jennifer as a friend
and an equal in his disdain for the way they’d been treated by the facility’s
caretakers up to this point. John wasn’t a fool. Just because she had wings
didn’t mean she was an angel. After all, Satan had wings too.

The three trudged through snow that came up to just above
their ankles. John was in front, followed by Jennifer, with Cyrus behind. They
all wore black jumpsuits which had been supplied by the facility.

John walked between
some trees and over a small hill. He stopped and turned. He could no longer see
the facility. The wind was fierce. He reached in his pocket and took out the
map he was handed before the door to the compound was shut and locked behind them.

“The big guy’s barefoot,” Jennifer said as she came over the
hill.

“What’s that?” John said, turning to look at her.

“Cyrus.”

“Who gives a shit? That mother fucker can freeze for all I
care,” John said.

“Hey, Cyrus,” Jennifer shouted over the whipping wind to the
giant who was now making his way up

the hill behind them.

The Cyclops stopped and looked up.

“Aren’t your feet freezing?” Jennifer asked.

Cyrus looked down at his huge fleshy pavement pounders and
then looked up at Jennifer and shrugged without saying a word. The giant took a
deep breath, exhaled, and continued walking toward where John and Jennifer now
stood. John examined the map.

“How much farther?” the winged woman asked.

“I’m guessing we’re here,” John started, pointing to a spot
not far from the rectangle which was the compound they’d left behind. “This
line shows us going at least another seven miles until we get to this smaller
square here at the opposite side of the paper.”

“What happens when we reach that square?” Jennifer asked.

John shook his head. “I hope we can at least get some
goddamned supplies. I don’t know what time it is, but I’m guessing it’s going
to start getting dark in the next four hours or so. If this weather gets any
more brutal we’re going to die from exposure.

“My body’s pretty okay,” John said. “My tail, on the other
hand…” John and Jennifer both looked down at John’s tail peeking from between
his legs. It was shaking like the end of a rattlesnake.

Cyrus walked up behind John and Jennifer. He looked over
their shoulders at the map and snorted. John turned and looked up at the
hulking brute. The Cyclops was breathing hard through his mouth and he had snot
dripping from his nose. The giant’s horrible breath smacked John in the face.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” John muttered turning
back to the map.

The three walked for another five miles in silence. John
walked ahead and would stop to check the map every once in a while to make sure
they were still going the right way. He listened for the sound of passing cars.
Nothing. No people. No animals.

After passing through a particularly thick cluster of very
tall leafless trees John stopped and squinted.

He could see a small wooden
shack approximately two miles ahead. Outside of the shack was what looked to be
a human form in a red jumpsuit seated, or maybe squatting.

“What’s up?” Jennifer asked as she walked up to where John
was now standing.

He pointed.

“What now?”

“I’m guessing he or she hasn’t seen us yet,” John said.

Cyrus caught up to the two and Jennifer was pointing so he
knew where to focus the giant eye in the middle of his face.

“I’ll walk ahead. You two hang back for five minutes before
following me,” John said.

John walked toward the shack. As he got closer the woods
thinned out. After about a half hour of walking he was close enough to observe
the person in the red jumpsuit seated outside the shack. It was most definitely
a man. He was a much older man than John, with a beard and moustache made up of
mostly thick gray hair. The man was sitting on a folding chair with a rifle
across his lap. As John approached, the older man stood, holding the rifle
across his body.

John held his arms up to show he wasn’t armed. “Hello,” he
said as he now walked slowly toward the old timer.

“Stop right there, son,” the old man said in what sounded
like a British accent.

John stopped approximately thirty feet from the old man with
the rifle. The old man’s right hand slid from the butt of the gun to the
trigger area. He tucked the backend of the rifle under his armpit, but kept the
barrel pointed down.

“I’m from the facility. I was given a map to get here.” John
dropped one of his hands and started to fish in his pocket for the map.

“Hands up, lad!” the old man shouted as he raised and cocked
the rifle. It was now pointed at John’s chest.

John took his hand out of his pocket, minus the map, and
raised it back in the air. He suddenly had another idea. John’s shivering tail
slowly made its way around his waist and into his front pocket. John felt the
tip of his tail grip the folded paper and pull it out.

“What the bloody hell is that then?” the Englishman
demanded. His eyes were now wide and his mouth hung open as he watched John’s
tail retrieve the map.

“That’s kind of a long story,” John said sighing. Just then
Cyrus and Jennifer emerged from the woods behind John.

The Englishman saw the Cyclops and the winged woman and
immediately raised the rifle to his eye. John could see he was shaking with
fear. Cyrus summoned a deep and angry rumbling roar from inside his huge lungs.

“Look out!” Jennifer yelled. She ran and grabbed John, her
wings wrapping around both her and him as she fell pulling both of them to the
ground.

As they fell, a shot rang out from the old man’s rifle,
followed almost simultaneously by a shot fired from a much closer source.

Jennifer’s wings unwrapped themselves from John. Her arms
let go. The two slowly stood. John looked to see the old man lying face down in
the snow, a deep red pool of blood soaking into the whiteness around his
motionless body. There was still smoke coming out of the barrel of the British
man’s rifle that now also lay on the ground.

Jennifer and John turned to see Cyrus holding a pistol at
his side with smoke curling out of the end.

“Where the fuck did you get that?” John asked the giant in
shocked amazement.

Monday, March 2, 2015

Sean’s truck pulled up to the curb alongside the brick house
that his grandfather had called home for the past forty-three years. He had
certainly never entertained the idea of bringing this lady who thought she was
a seahorse along with him to a place that meant so much, but here they were. He
turned his key that was placed in the ignition and cut the engine before
removing it. Sean was the first one out the vehicle, his door shut just as hers
had opened. Tiffany chased after him and stood in front of him to impede any
further progress.

“Maybe I should just dip under your arms like you did at my
place?” The smirk that accompanied his words told her all that she needed to
know. She was growing on him and she knew that this was both tragic and beautiful.
Tragically beautiful, she thought to herself. While he stood just before the
front steps, she tried to read his mind through his eyes. This had never worked
for her, but she gave it a shot anyways. As she tried to do so, the only thing
that came of it was a headache that would last for the rest of the afternoon.

“Damnit,” she inadvertently said aloud, causing him to wince
and ask what was wrong. “Nothing, just tried to read your thoughts. It hurts
sometimes. All of the time,” she said as she sat down on the grass beside the
brick front porch.

“You’re going to get your dress dirty. Here,” he said,
extending his hand for her to grab to support herself back to her feet. “Come
on, I’m sure there’s aspirin inside.” She latched on to his arm and gathered
herself back to her feet, holding his hand as they walked up the stairs and
eventually through the massive black front doors. The door itself made her
think of a draw bridge from way back in medieval times.

As they shut the door behind them, she leisurely strolled
through the corridor, taking in each family photo like her next breath. She
wanted to become them, she wanted to
be one with them. The dated black and white photos didn’t give off that foreign
vibe that other people’s photos usually do. There was something about them and
she couldn’t quite put her finger on it just yet, but she knew in due time it’d
come to her effortlessly.

Her headache intensified as she tried to sell herself on the
idea of this place and everything it held being a part of one of her past
lives. She halted and grabbed both sides of her temple with each of her hands,
crouching down against the brown painted walls. Sean, who was only a few steps
ahead of her realized that she had shriveled down against the wall.

“Are you ok? Do you get migraines or something?”

Going along with his assumed explanation was far easier than
attempting to explain the real reason behind her sudden ailment. She shook her
head yes and requested a glass of water. She slowly climbed to her feet and
leaned against the wall just as he returned with the cup and two Advil tablets.
Tiffany thanked him for his help and tipped
her head back as she swallowed the aspirin, handing him back the empty glass by
extending her arm to its maximum reach, turning her head away from him until he
accepted it.

“I would call you weird but that’s old hat to you by now,
ain’t it?”

She chuckled and stood upright before asking, “so when do I
get to go through the other stuff?” She followed him into the kitchen and
watched place the cup in the sink before he answered her question. “we can do
it now if you’d like. Sooner the better, I could change my mind, you know.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me. You’re too nice,” she said
back. He knew that she was right but did all that he could not to show it. He
figured that she could probably see right through it anyways, so he was
actually questioning why he’d even bother trying to hide it. Hiding emotions
was something that Sean had never been too good at it, and he was unsure
whether it was by choice or not. He liked the idea of being a person, but maybe
she was right when she said that he wanted to be a bird. He felt like a bird.
Well, half bird-half human.

“I wonder what that would look like,” Tiffany remarked.

Sean stood there in disbelief, staring at her.

“Did you just –“

She cut him off before he could finish his question. The
largest smile he’d ever seen had overtaken her face.